Unyielding, He Yields

From striving to stricken
The need is the same;
My can-do can't do it,
My I-can't feels shame.
Despair drags me down,
But pride makes me swell;
The folly of each
My heart knows too well.
It aches from the knowing
How dark it can be.
It aches from the knowing
What love comes from Thee.
My goodness before you-
Filthy rags, dirty clothes, 
Flung frantically forward-
I'm fully exposed!
Your grace burns them up,
Consumes all that stench.
Holy fire at once
Will clothe and will quench.
Radiant robes replace rags,
Clean for unclean;
His goodness is mine,
On him I will lean!
For he is my refuge,
Defender and shield,
A tower of faithfulness
Who will not (cannot!) yield...
But for mercy and grace,
There he bends to his knee,
And then yields indeed
This great love for me!

Isaiah 64:6

All of us have become like one who is unclean,
    and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags;
we all shrivel up like a leaf,
    and like the wind our sins sweep us away.

Isaiah 61:10

I delight greatly in the Lord;
    my soul rejoices in my God.
For he has clothed me with garments of salvation
    and arrayed me in a robe of his righteousness,
as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest,
    and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.

Comments

[missy]

love this